


iron fist

by aestheticrevolucion



Series: iron fist in a velvet glove [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Back from the dead bitches, Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Bisexual Lotor (Voltron), Crime Fighting, Enemies to Friends to Lovers Again, F/F, F/M, Gender-Neutral Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Klance if you squint, Lesbian Sex, Light Angst, Light BDSM, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, Lotura - Freeform, M/M, Multi, Past Relationship(s), Past Torture, Plot Twists, Polyamory, Praise Kink, Queer Allura (Voltron), Quintessence field can’t stop me now, Reunited and It Feels So Good, SHEITH - Freeform, Switching, The Author Regrets Everything, Unrequited Crush, Weird Plot Shit, What Have I Done, i swear im not high while writing this, like what in fresh hell was i thinking, not actually dead, super fruity, youll get what i mean
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-10
Updated: 2019-03-16
Packaged: 2019-06-25 09:58:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 7,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15638412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aestheticrevolucion/pseuds/aestheticrevolucion
Summary: The aftermath of the paladins’ last fight with Lotor has left tension and pent-up frustrations in its wake. They’ve already begun their journey back to Earth and unresolved issues manifest at the most inopportune time.





	1. mascara lines

“Hey.” 

Allura had been leaning over the stalacmite-like banister at the edge of the ruins for what felt like deca-phoebes. She was quite sure the others had been conversing, which was precisely why she’d removed her helmet in the first place. The need to disassociate had come before all else. Lost in thought, she tried to decide on exactly who was speaking to her. A hint of cockiness, typical intonation, all around kid-brother vibes? Must be Lance. 

“Oh, Hello, Lance.”

”Everyone’s been looking for you, Princess.”

“What happened to them?”

”Okay, _I was_ looking for you.”

”Why?”

”You’ve been out all day and you haven’t spoken to anyone, haven’t eaten anything. We’re worried about you.”

”I can assure you I’m fine.”

”When you change your mind,” he began, before dropping one of Hunk’s wraps beside her. “We’re here.” He walked back inside the cave, joining the others. 

Allura sighed, petting the mice once again. She looked back at a smiling Romelle who’d wrapped her arms around Lance’s shoulders.  _You don’t trust her either?_ _Colonies just disappearing? Farm-girl suddenly-_

_Maybe we’re jealous?_

_Of Romelle? I’m not even into Lance that way. You all know that._

_Too busy obsessing over a dead elf prince to-_

She stopped, climbing up the ledge higher than the mice could reach,

_I’m not obsessed. He might not be dead. At least, I don’t want him to be dead. If I really thought he were, what would the point of even being h- I’m not going to think. Just reflect. Meditate. Perhaps I should join the others. Though everything comes back to him. I wish I could go back. The Galra’d never had been invading Earth. We’d be together- unofficially, that is. And most importantly, this ‘Romelle’ character wouldn’t be romancing the Lance. Not that I care, or anything. He should be with Keith. But Keith should be with Shiro. If only we had a younger version of Coran. Not to self: get them both a boyfriend when we return to Earth. Oh, and find Shay. Hunk deserves happiness too. Katie’s ace, I think. Everyone’s going to be taken care of._

_I don’t know what I’ll do after Earth.Or where I’ll go. We don’t have any money-Altean or Earth-Ian? Earth-oid? Earth-lingese? We don’t have anything worth anything. We don’t have Altea. We don’t have the Castle of Lions._

“We just have eachother, for now.”

_Can’t even quote him without a headache. But being lost in him’s a dream. I must be obsessed, then. Now the universe can accept this...this postulate and move on. Maybe there’s an Earthling who happens to look like an elf prince. Or an Earthlingette? This whole ‘type’ thing is-_

”Dangerous. Poorly planned. Not a good idea!” someone shouted. Orange stache. High-pitched voice. Dramatic expressions. _Coran._

”I’m sorry, _what_?” 

“Princess, you haven’t had the recommended amount of food or water for the day. I know these turnkey samwiches are no delicacy, but we’ve got to stay strong.”

”Thank you, Coran, but I’m quite alright. A bit starved though. Thank you for bringing these.” 

He saluted before hopping down to join the others. Turnkey had a horrible, sweaty flavor. Like flesh was just sitting there, steaming and festering until it cooled. Stale bread wasn’t much better. Edible though. 

 _Nothing was as good as it seemed before. The food on Earth, at least the premade ones were disgusting. The people, boring and brutish. The world, destroyed. Kinkade was a-oh, what did Lance call it- a snacc, when I need a four-course meal and a wine pairing._

“I know we haven’t known eachother very long-“a softer voice began. What were they, bringing out the cavalry? Soft voice. Soft voice. Long hair. Bubbly. Fake. _Romelle. What kind of name is Romelle, anyways?_

“And let me guess, you’re concerned for my health?” 

“Ah, yes. I’m afraid I’ve been sent. We all had to draw straws, and I came third. I know you must be upset. Believe me, I am not used to all this either.”

“I know, it must’ve been awful. I’m truly sorry about everything that’s been happening lately.”

“Cut the quiznak, Allura, we both know you hate me. Despise me, even.”

”I don’t know what you’re talking about, Romelle. What ever would make you feel this way?” _Abort. Abort. Mission Control, we’ve been discovered. Use shared experience and common ground to avert hostile female adversary._

“Stop playing. You don’t have to quiznak around with me when there’s no one else around. We both know you blame me for getting your little boyfriend k-“

“I am using great restraint when I warn you, darling, do not cross me. I don’t trust you, and you’re on thin ice, as is.”

”Hurts to hear you say that, Allura. I can’t believe you’d say such awful things.” Romelle sniffled, loud enough for the others to hear. Everyone followed their voices, walking to the level beneath them. Lance looked the most surprised. “What happened?” he called up to them. 

Romelle wiped away those- what was it,  ‘crock-pot-o-dial’? - tears, stepping down below. “Oh, nothing, guys, it’s quite alright. I was just apologizing for putting you all in this mess,” she sighed, passing by everyone else. _Quiznaking cunt._

“I don’t know what’s up with you lately, Allura, but it’s got to stop.”

 “Yeah, it’s like emo-llura’s Back from the dead.” 

“Can’t we all just get along?”

”My apologies, Paladins. Seems _I’m_ the one who’s changed.” Allura headed in a different direction, Lance reaching out after her. I really can’t talk to anyone.

 

She amplified the thrusters in her boots, boosting herself up as needed, using her jet pack when necessary. Eventually she had made it to the interior of an abandoned building. On her way in, she overheard rustling and squealing. _Stars, I hope this isn’t another Romelle._ She peeked behind some overturned furniture, revealing hostile rodents surrounding a small creature. She shooed them away with a chair-leg. Extending a hand, and a bit of ‘turn-key samwich’, the creature emerged into the little bit of light emanating from her suit. A mouse. White, with light eyes- rare. It hesitated before climbing  into her open palms, squeaking between chews. _You remind me of someone,_ it peered back at her, almost deciding whether or not to trust her. 

 It had.


	2. strange things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> allura begins her angst quest (complete with Disney soundtracks) to rescue her elf prince from way up on the shelf

When Allura returned to the Garrison, night had passed. She used her clearance to gain access to where they’d stored the lions. She had no plan. She had no premise. Guards had been positioned on the exterior, as none of them had access to the materials in the hold. Only a chip of the teludav’s crystal was necessary to keep the Garrison’s systems up and running. It could rely on residue and particles for months without anyone noticing. There wouldn’t even been an alarm when she swiped it. 

She, and the white mouse from earlier stole past the hub containing the crystal, snatching it on the way. She raised her hand, placing it gently on the Blue Lion’s exterior, ripples emanating from the touch. Its mouth opened, allowing her and her companion to enter.

Inside, someone waited for them, patiently, sitting beside the Pilot’s seat, smoking a seventy-two. The lights flickered on, and a panicked Allura raised her bayard in defense.”A-Acxa?” she began, before calming herself down. “What are you doing here?” 

“Could say the same about you.”

Silence. 

“Well, this has been.... _something_. If you’ll excuse me, I have urgent matters to attend to.” 

“Well, this is gonna suck, but, unfortunately for you, I’ve witnessed you sneak in past curfew, steal the very life source of this facility, and attempt to take the Blue Lion with you.”

”Your point is?”

”Fortunately for you, I’m coming with.”

”Oh, you most certainly are _not_.”

”Oh, I’m sorry, Princess, do you want me to out you to the Garrison’s Guards?”

Silence.

”A _‘Welcome to Team: All-Axca’_ would be nice.”

”Technically, my name should go first. And that sounds like a laxative.”

 

—————

 

It’d taken vargas for them to’ve had an _actual_ , non-competitive, half-assed conversation. Axca had already proven herself useful, and by being the stronger, and taller of the two — not counting the mouse, that is — she’d been able to set up a habitable living space. She had a plan, which happened to include bringing rations and supplies. 

“How did you manage to get all this past the Guards?” Allura asked, plopping down onto a makeshift cot. Before her- rather, between her an Acxa’s sides, lie an amass of provisions from Earth. _Almonds. Salmon. Pears. Tomatoes. Mangoes. Not a ‘Turn-Key Samwich’ in sight! - Perhaps I have underestimated her. I hadn’t even thought to bring anything._

“I made an offer Sheila couldn’t refuse.” Acxa smirked. 

Silence. _Had she-? I’m afraid to ask, but Sheila? Ewww. Not that she isn’t pretty- for an old lady, that is. It’s just, she’s at least a good thirty deca-phoebs older than us. So, double ewww._

”Not _that_ kind of offer.” _I’m quite sure I let out a sigh of relief,_ Acxa rolled her eyes. “I just made it clear to her that her methods of consoling a certain Mrs. Holt were _quite_ unorthodox.” 

“Oh, you mean _—_ “ 

“Anyone who knows anything about space is automatically gay.” she smirked, brandishing a rather bulky bottle of liquor. Expensive. Looks precisely like the one on Iverson’s mantle. A particularly gay oh-no-you-dit-ent gasp followed by a deliciously naughty grin was an opportune introduction for a pair of makeshift shot glasses. 

“Oh, yes. The straights have the streets. Gays have the galaxies.” 

“Queers have the quasars. Aces have asteroids.”

”If we’re gonna spend the next few weeks deeming things gay, we better around to breaking this one in.” Acxa poured both ‘glasses’ a quarter full, before passing one to the Princess. 

“To Infinity...” Allura began, raising her glass. 

“And Beyond.”

 

They Clinked. Clicked. Connected. And things were never going to be the same.


	3. i’m still here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> times are changing. three weeks have passed. they’re low on supplies. they’re out of options.

_There’s something that always upsets me in Earth films. And on tv. When somebody’s going to die, they’ve got some dramatic response based on their character. Little Timmy hears the Big Man calling him, clutches Mr.Cuddles and is lifted miraculously by invisible angels. ‘Go into the light, Little Timmy’ they’d say. A middle aged woman hears the Progressive Commercial - the one with that ‘Ooh, Heaven is a place on Earth’ song, and walks into the sunset, surrounded by cascading waves until she’s swallowed by them. That’s not what it feels like at all. Pure Quiznak, it is. We’re going to die._

And I don’t feel anything.

—————

“We’ve got three days worth of food left. Half the bottle.” Axca sighed, packing the rations away. 

“We’re going to have to enter the quintessence field early.”

”We won’t know what we’re going into. The field could have location-based discrepancies, so whichever section you’ve seen before could look completely different “

”Perhaps if you were to tether me to the ship, in case of emergency, you could pull me back towards the Blue Lion.”

”You could be in there for days or weeks at a time. How can we assure that you won’t starve or become dehydrated?”

”We can’t.  And even if I brought rations, you would be at a disadvantage.”

”It might be necessary to-“

”That’s not a risk I’m willing to take, Axca. If we pull this off, and we can rescue him in under twenty-four hours, we’ll have enough fuel and enough rations to get us to the nearest habitable planet.”

”How do you suppose we ‘pull this off’”

”Practice.”

—————

The magnetic bungee cord around my waist felt like my stomach was being strangled. Left little scabs where the knot was tied. Everything hurt. And still, I found myself, for the hundred-and-fifteenth time in twelve Vargas, pulling the cord thrice. Being yanked back with enough force to upset my stomach. Convincing myself that somehow this would’ve been worth it. In less than thirteen doboshses, Axca had beaten her twenty-dobosh record, and I had been brought back to the ship again.

”You look like you need a break.” she smirked, extending an arm. She untied the cord, giving me much needed rest. 

“So do you.” I unfurled one of her abraised palms. She winced as I traced over the raw skin lightly. “You need salve.” Axca had insisted that I leave her alone. I never leave anyone alone. Earth salve - at least the homemade sort - stung incredibly on open wounds, yet no tears were shed. I dabbed a small blot onto a cotton swab, before patting gently. She threw her head back, letting out a guttural scream. Her claws dug into my arm, nearly drawing blood. She blinked away dewy eyes. “Thanks. I needed that.” She sighed, plopping down on her cot. “You okay?”

”Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

_We both know I’m not. I don’t even get why she’s asking._


	4. into the woods

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> allura enters the quintessence field. nothing goes as planned

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so, 3 chapters will come out every mid-month, aside from winter and summer break

“Valve tight?”

”Check.” 

I’d been fine during practice. Now I felt...anxious? It’s barely happened to me before - I usually can walk into a situation objectively but...I can’t be objective about hi- this. I don’t really want to die. But for a while I’ve felt like I was halfway there. Like ‘limbo’ as Pidge called it - they’ve been getting into magical sciences and oddities. Cryptids, really - it’s this place where you don’t exactly remember where you came from, but you know you came from there. And you don’t have any idea of where you’re going, so you’re stuck in between the last life and the next. And somehow it involves human babies with wings and basketball hoops on their heads. I’m not entirely sure if that last bit is true. 

“Suit sealed?”

”Check”

I can’t say whether I’m going to - what Shiro’s mother says in a thick accent  ‘the place in which the fiery flames torrent upon unholy souls’ or ‘the heaven’. On Altea no one discussed such things. Everyone wanted to live their best lives defending others and searching for new horizons. And if I’m the last one left - not counting Toto the trashy ho. (she’s Toto because she doesn’t even deserve to be Dorothy) 

“Cord secure?”

No answer. I nearly shat myself - the rift had already been opened, and the field awaited me.

“Axca - come in. Cord Secure?”

I felt a reassuring hand on my shoulder. I could feel her smiling - she did it so rarely, but when she had, there was this prescience about her. An aura,even.  And I could tell it was genuine. 

“Relax, ‘Llura. You’re gonna be fine.” 

I turned towards her out of habit - it was in my nature to hug someone without thinking anything of it. “No, _we’re_ gonna be fine.” 

She reached back towards me before pausing. And shoving me backwards into the field. 

 “Check.”


	5. freaky friday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> allura has entered the quintessence field. she might not’ve woken up in Chris Brown’s body, but it’s nothing close to her expectations.

The last thing I remember was Axca pushing me into the rift. Now I’m lying in the middle of a cobblestone road. What is this horrible feeling? It’s as if my stomach has been strangled. Probably part of this torture device I seem to be entrapped in. This is some sort of contraption determined to suction the shit out of me. I’d seen it before in those movies they played Wednesday nights at the Garrison. Some might say ‘twas a dress. But this corset is killing me, so I shall call it what it is.

 _Torture_. 

Two automobiles - still the sort from those movies without color in them - slammed on their brakes nearly two hundred feet away in opposite directions, yet still managed to nearly run me over. Two men stepped out, one from each  - both of them looked oddly familiar - Keith? Shiro? Does everyone exist in this universe? And instead of even asking if I was alright, they argued with one another like they did in the movies. 

_Jap like you had no business in these parts anyways. Heard you was a flit too._

_For your information, I’ve earned every right to conduct business in these parts. Takes one to know one._

_Typical flit._

_Typical fag._

_Flit._

_Fag._

_Flit._

_Fag_.

I blinked, before sitting up. They started that same dialogue again. Like they’d been stuck on repeat or something. 

_Jap like you had no business in these parts anyways. Heard you was a flit too._

_For your information I-_

I had a job to do. And I wouldn’t let whatever this was get in my way. I rose, and they continued to speak. Even after I hopped into retro Shiro’s buggy, they remained engaged in their tiff. I had hoped they would’ve given me some direction as to where I could find him. Unfortunately the coach had been running out of gas and I’d been wandering aimlessly, driving down streets until I could find a gas station. 

Finally, I had found one. A seedy joint - _shit, I’m starting to sound like one of them already_. - normally I wouldn’t trust a small spot in the middle of nowhere, but I’m out of options. 

“Fill ‘er up.” 

 

The attendant - he looked almost exactly like Hunk, but older - with a bald spot and a few teeth missing. 

“H-Hunk?” 

He glanced back up towards me, grunting. “One dollar.”

 _One dollar? Who has that kind of money these days?_ I rummaged around the globe box and various compartments. A wallet with fifteen dollars in change. A condom - _that one better be for Keith_. Two packs of cigarettes. A program. I handed retro Hunk four quarters before hopping out to head inside the tiny shop beside the station. Mart-O-Matic, I believe. There has to be some way to find _him_. The program. I popped back in to grab it. Mrs. Eleanor Daibazaal was the keynote speaker at some snazzy spot - here I go again - downtown. _Mrs?_ he’s married? _Stars, I hope he doesn’t have kids. I shouldn’t think that, I know, I shouldn’t. But it’s not like I’m ecstatic he’s got a wife, either. Children would only complicate the matter further. And - stars, this feels like that moment in rom-coms_ \- Lately I’ve been free for far too many Friday nights as well - _when one partner is in such a low point being all emo and fucking up everything good in their life. And the other one’s got a  life. And a wife. What if he has kids now too? And a mansion? And friends here? What if he doesn’t want to leave? What if I don’t want to come back?_

“You gon’ stand there or order somethin’“ retro Pidge - I’m assuming, but the gray hair and veiny hands made it hard to tell - asked. They were still quite thin in their old age. Still androgynous in ratty overalls and a thermal tee. 

“Ah,yes, I’d like to ask you a question actually. Where might I find the Daibazaal residence?”

”Dai’Buz’Allz? Reckon it to be about thataways from here.”

”Ah, in which direction?”

”Git back on the main road. Left on Morganser. Right on Sandpiper. Big ol’ ostentarious buildin’. Only purple one on the whole street. Can’t miss it.”

”Thanks, Pidge.”

”Say, How’d you know -“ the elderly person began before seeming to remember something. “You gon’ stand there or order something?” 

I headed back outside. Back into the car. Only took driving through a few front porches and running over a couple mailboxes to get back to the man road. And from there to Morganser. Morganser to Sandpiper. Sandpiper to the ostentatious, not ostentarious house halfway down the street. 

You know that feeling? Like guilt and sadness and anger and everything you can’t ever seem to talk about seriously juts boils up in your throat until you can’t breathe? If I wasn’t going to die of starvation, the anxiety could’ve killed me first. And if that wouldn’t get me, the thought of seeing him again. And ruining things for him again would’ve. 

 

 


	6. at last

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: so sorry for the wait, I’ve been busy. 
> 
> & shoutout to @psychedelicbubblegum, whose advice/guidance/general presence is so appreciated even tho we haven’t talked lately ❤️
> 
> anyways, i look forward to feedback as this chapter leads up to further plot pts

IIt was prettier in person. As fit for a prince as a mansion could be. There wasn’t even any grass - just lavender fields surrounding the path leading up to the aubergine pillars, which were surrounded by blackberry bushes.

The door had been left unlocked - apparently they felt safe enough to do so. Peering in, the interior was just as goregeous as it was expected to be, but vintage. The kitchen was right beside the foyer, and dishes clinked regularly. The radio played some old song I can’t remember the name of on low. His wife was home. 

I slipped inside quietly, noticing a violet-printed China cup resting dangerously on the countertop’s edge. When she knocked it over I caught it, startling her enough to drop a stack of plates. 

Brilliant blue-gray eyes widened, and a gloved hand rushed over freshly glossed lips. _S_ he was perfect. Platinum blonde hair tucked in a chignon. A coral swing-lapel shift dress brushed softly against the floor, shifting the shards ever so slightly. 

“I’m sorry, Miss, I wasn’t aware anyone else was home.” I stuttered, brushing fractured fragments into the dustpan. 

“He doesn’t mention me often - ah, how did you say you knew him?” She dumped the remains into the trash receptacle before extending an arm. 

I took it.  

“I didn’t - I knew him b-“ I began, before she turned up the volume dial on the radio to annoyingly high levels. Etta James was eardrum-piercing at a hundred or so decibles. She glanced upwards dramatically, as if gesturing towards a bright blinking light in the ceiling fan. We were being watched. 

“I just love this song, don’t you?” she hummed along, turning it down a bit. 

“Yes, I suppose I do. Something about reuniting after a great loss  feels so real. Relatable even.”

”Etta’ll do that to you, alright,” she sighed, sweeping a stray hair back into place. “Lo, honey, could you come down here? There’s a guest here for you.”

Footsteps could be heard descending from the marble staircase. A blank expression replaced by a knowing gaze intensified the tension. 

“What are you doing here?”  Lotor’s eyes became slits, and the woman? beside him shifted towards him. 

“I’m repaying my debt by bringing you back, Lotor.” 

She fidgeted her hands, clenching them into a fist before briefly releasing. “Would you like to join us, Eleanor?” I turned towards her. She looked to him for a reaction and received ambivalence. 

“I wouldn’t want to intrude - probably some important business. Private matter, I’d presume.” she brushed it off as if she didn’t care either. 

“You all are married, aren’t you? There are few things that surpass that bond. I’m _sure_ he wouldn’t mind,” 

“I don’t,” he lied, flatly, heading outside and starting up their car. Eleanor followed closely behind. 

“I don’t understand,” I whispered. “I got you, and the rift’s not opening.”

”Did you change anything after arrival? In that game Coran and them used to play they’d always have to go back and set things right before completing the level.” He replied quietly. I pointed him back to the street I ‘landed’ on. Keith and Shiro’s buggies remained inches apart from one another. 

_If I hadn’t been lying there, they would’ve hit each others cars. If I could just-_

_Flit_

_Fag_

_Flit-_

The buggies reset their positions to opposite ends of the same road, before colliding. Gentlest collision if I ever saw one. From a short distance away, it was obvious that they had exchanged information and were now en route to the nearest hospital. Just as they had entered the salvageable of the two vehicles, the rift opened up, and the background began to fade. 

I tied the coil around my waist, before grabbing his arm and hers. Yanking on the thick wire, I felt myself rising slowly. We failed to account for maintaining the weight of a third person, which drained energy from other sectors. Oxygen levels barely kept me conscious enough to yank my helmet off and unzip my suit inside the Blue Lion. 

“W-What is this place?” Eleanor’s eyes went off in every direction imaginable. 

“Technically it’s an infinite and ever changing array of mass that extends throughout multiple dimensions and realities. But we call it space.” 

“How...peculiar,” she took a step back before extending an arm to Acxa. “Never did catch your name,” Axca returned the gesture with a firm grip. “Acxa, pilot, lieutenant, badass in general, at your service.” she saluted, smirking. 

“Eleanor Daibazaal housewife and a darn good cook, if I do say so myself at your service.” She returned the gesture. 

”Daibazaal?.....as in...”

”Lotor, we’ve been married for quite some time now. Surprised neither of you have heard about me. Shouldn’t be, seeeing as I’ve never heard of either of you.” 

I struggled to catch my breath, barely maintaining the strength to get inside. I haven’t eaten in days, so the cord would fit easier around my waist. I got used to the pain, but that didn’t stop the scabbing. They continued to talk for a few - they being Acxa and Eleanor, of course. Suppose we weren’t exactly on speaking terms at the moment. 

But I desperately want that to change. I really do. 

But unfortunately, that’d have to wait. 


	7. before the fire (pt.1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> allura’s chance for closure is interrupted by an unforeseen reappearance.

“An immense figure emerged from a deep purple vortex, pulling up right beside the Blue Lion. Hooded figures, all of which disguised by thick layers of protective fabric, descended upon the Lion.

“Hands up, ho’s” a familiar voice began. I could feel her smirking, though I couldn’t see her underneath that headscarf. Plus Acxa mouthed her name as if she had been trying to convince herself that said prescence was real.

Two of the seven, neither of which I had seen nor heard before, aimed phasers at our backs. I struggled to stand fully, and I felt the cold, metal shell warm against my spine. 

“Search the ship .” a brunt voice commanded, leading the final five to spread across the entirety of my Lion. 

“You don’t have to go through all this to get what you want, Ezor.” Acxa rolled her eyes, turning away from the Lion’s exterior walls. One of the nameless henchmen slammed the butt of his weapon against the back of Acxa’s skull. She slumped to the ground, and of course my instinct was to check for a pulse.  _Nothing_. 

I rose, slowly, as if I were returning to my assigned space, before doubling back and pouncing on the henchperson who hit her. Grasping at any tuft of hair, lobe of ear, an eye to poke out— _something_. There was no attempt to wrangle me off of him. I only felt the sharp stabbing pain in my neck, the sedative coursing through my veins, before losing consciousness. 

———

Regaining consciousness wasn’t remotely like it is in the movies. There was no magical epiphany where memories came flooding back to me. I had no gripping desire to escape at all costs, no shiv stealthily sewn into my suit, _nothing_. I made up my mind, If death was what the Gods have in order for me, let it be swift and imminent. It’s not like I have anything to live for anyway, but I suppose I hadn’t expected to be in a straightjacket, surrounded by padded purple walls.

The one part that was like the movies was regaining sight. Bright fluorescent lights beamed from behind protective screens, and adjustment felt almost impossible. 

Eventually, the clicking of heeled boots interrupted the rhythmic hum of the lights. The door swung open. Slender legs outfitted in spandex leggings and a Sherpa jacket - rather, the Galran equivalent of fleece. It was Ezor. Which sucked because I liked her. _Who_ _wouldn’t_? Up until the whole having  me knocked out  & held against my will bit.

The guard assigned to my door unlatched the various hooks and untied the endless knots on the striaightjacket, which practically fell off my frame. My regular suit had been stored elsewhere - security reasons, I suppose, so the practically sheer under suit was the only covering I had. 

“Sorry about this.” Ezor smiled softly, as she led me around the corner. “Protocol and everything makes the whole reuniting less fun than it should be.” she poked her lips out, before standing in front of a retina scanner. 

“Figured as much.” 

“Mm. Z’s not terribly upset, so you don’t have anything to worry about— not that she’s in charge anyways...” 

“Is she not the  ‘Big Cat Bitch’ around here?” 

“Technically she became second in command after Acxa’s abdication, so once Lotor’s feeling better, he’ll be back on top.”

” _Of._..”

”The New & Improved Galra Empire, duh.”

”Oh.”

”But don’t worry, doll, it’ll turn out fine.”  she said before entering a set of swinging doors into an enormous office. Behind an expansive clear touchscreen desk, sat Zethrid, thigh high boots resting nonchalantly on the table. Beside her, was a seemingly emotionless Lotor, sitting with his hands folded in his lap. 

“‘Sup bitch?”


	8. right to it (pt. 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> apparently things aren’t as shitty as allura made them out to be

“Hey, hoe.”

”This is business, though, Allura. I do wish we were meeting again on better terms and circumstances and whatnot.”

”I know.”

”We have a mission to complete, so we’ll dump you off at Earth, refuel at the nearest Earthian pit stop, and be on our way.”

Lotor had been silent this entire time, but his eyes glazed over slightly. “I will speak to her privately, now, Zethrid and Ezor.”

Zethrid rolled her eyes, heading outside with Ezor, wrapping a possessive arm around her shoulder. Zero glanced back, winking. But I don’t suppose that was reassuring as it was meant to be.

”You hesitated just now.” He began. “Why?”

”I haven’t repaid my debt to you, Lotor. I’ve only saved your life. My mission was once yours. I owe this to you, if nothing else.”

”This isn’t about debt, Allura.”

”What’s it about then, Lotor. It’s only fair that I build you up in the same ways you did me.”

”Do you genuinely wish to come with m- _us_? You won’t be able to return to Earth- or wherever you’re calling home these days- until after the journey is completed.”

”I do.”

”We’ll arrive to your new planet in a roughly a spicolian movement. I suggest you get acquainted with your surroundings, then. There is much you’ve missed.” He continued. I  nodded, stepping towards the exit.

”Oh, and Allura?” 

I turned back, hoping for something straight out of a rome-cone? The weird movies that Pidge’s mom likes that come on the cheap channels early in the morning, where there’s almost always a blonde and her especially pasty love interest with rippling and cascading muscles. And they gaze into eachothers’ eyes and say dumb and confusing things about how dumb and confusing love is. It’s not dumb and confusing usually. For me it is. Just the confusing part though, seeing as I locked my ex partner into an alternate dimension in which time and space were distorted for five decaphoebs. But technically, since I’m the one who made it complicated, I am the cliche. And I have to stop this. But I can’t say anything meaningful when my eyes glaze over. And I can’t get him to look at me without feeling like shit. But that’s how the cones do it, so that’s how things have to be, I guess.

”Yes?”

”Send Ellie in, would you? I have needs to attend to.”

”Sure.” I sighed. 

I left.

I lied. 

I’m not sending her in. My life is not a cone. I have dimension and capabilities and choices and apparently I’m not making the right ones. 

So starting now, I’m going to outshine Eleanor in every way. She was his wife in a universe that doesn’t exist, so technically she doesn’t exist. I do exist. And we were together in real time. Plus, I’m way thiccer than she is. Aside from the whole mind games and breakup drama, I’ve got everything going for me. 

And I will out-hoe her in every way I can.


	9. nobody knows that these thoughts go down & deep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> disliking Eleanor proves to be more difficult than “Llura thought.

The Galra are known for many things. Ask any given alien, colonized or otherwise, about the Galra, the plundering and pillaging and constant conquest are the first to come to mind. 

And while those things can’t be ignored, they’re not completely and entirely barbaric. They’re charming, hospitable, romantic, even though I’m not exactly their favorite Altean at the moment...but none the matter, their staterooms are so comfortable. I was half expecting to have to stay in the steerage or the dungeon - not his personal dungeon -  _doubt I’d be invited to that anytime soon_ \- but I was escorted towards average sized quarters. 

The one night I’d stayed the ship, the majority of the time was spent in his quarters, and I was assigned an incredibly spacious suite nearby.  Suppose I don’t exactly deserve one now. 

But if the ten thousand thread count kalörvian sweek down bedset was supposed to be punishment, I could get used to this. 

———

I could not, however, get used to the constant hourly patrols and pounding of hollow metal footsteps against the hallway floor.

Struggling to adjust to the lack of a sleep schedule proved more difficult than I thought.

Getting my life together was supposed to start with me outshining Eleanor, and I don’t even know where to start. She’s naturally gorgeous. Knowing that I have enormous bags underneath my eyes and hours worth of knots to detangle from my hair.

Turning over to adjust my eyes to the bright violet alarm clock screen, I realized there were seven hours until the morning address would be made. 

I leaned over, rummaging through my things for something remotely acceptable to compete with whatever Eleanor would’ve been provided with and the only thing remotely realistic for whatever duties I’d be assigned to was a quilted jumpsuit. It wasn’t hideous, but nothing nearly ostentatious enough to be formal nor revealing enough to be eye catching.

But since shes from a universe that doesn’t technically exist, she could not have possibly brought anything with her and whatever tailors onboard couldn’t have fashioned anything on such short notice. 

I had soaked in scaldingly hot water for well over an hour before I heard her dainty little knocking on my door. 

“Give me two ticks and a dobosh and I’ll be out!” I called, before submerging my face completely in the water and ringing out my recently brushed hair. When I answered, it was more like ten ticks, but at least I looked presentable. 

“I know we don’t know each other very well, but I was hoping you had some sort of clothing or beauty products or something I could borrow,” she asked, smizing. 

“Of course,”  I’m not even sure why I agreed to help her. I’m not even technically royalty anymore so I’m not sure why I’m still such an emotional socialist.

”We’ve got completely different measurements, so I’m not sure anything I have will fit you, but I’m sure there’s sewing materials of some sort onboard,” 

“That’s a nice way of letting me know how fat I am,” I pulled out some pinkish blouses of mine that could’ve been cinched at the waist before laying them on the bed. 

“Are you kidding, I’d _kill_ to be half as curvy as you or to have an ounce of whatever’s Zethrid on.”

”Are _you_ kidding? I’d kill to be nearly as skinny as you are.” 

“I’d expect you to say the opposite, actually,”

”Why so?” I plucked a needle from the nightstand drawer before plopping down beside her. 

“He never mentioned hating your weight. I’m no sure why you-“

”He mentioned me?” I lost focus, pricking myself in the thumb and drawing blood. 

“Of course, from what I understand, you all have history? I’m not sure of many details, though, as our relationship, if that’s what you could call it, wasn’t remotely perfect.”

”You’re gorgeous, and social and perfect, and if he’s not interested in being with you, that just means you deserve someone better.” I knew those media manipulation classes were paying off. 

“Suppose you’re right,” she smiled, again, before holding up the dress to her chest. 

“Thanks, Allura, I won’t forget this,” she headed outside. 

“Oh, Nora, did you want to borrow some soap or lotion or anything?”

”Look at us, ‘Llura, becoming best of friends already,” she took the uluænberry set with her.

 

 _Why couldn’t she be more like Romelle? Why couldn’t she be less likeable, less pretty, less perfect. Why couldn’t she be more like m- I couldn’t have possibly come that close to comparing myself to that...that_...voltaurian dingo! 

_But what if I am the Romelle. Lotor could’ve learned to love her, had a family and whatnot. And I impeded on fate. I ruined their relationship. I think I need to have a talk with Coran._

_We can’t possibly be this much alike, can we?_


	10. walls could talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> shit is crazy right?

Breakfast began promptly at 06:15 every morning on every Galra vessel. And there was something different about this one. Footsoldiers chowed on gruel-of-the-day in the mess hall, floors beneath, while awkward young adults lounged around a violet island with marble countertops and matching appliances. Teeny pastries lined decorative trays, and the stove was sizzling with Glinean hatchlings, which resembled sunny side up eggs, just a bright green with a garlicky aftertaste. 

And these awkward adults were an interconnected web, and managed to be completely disconnected. Zethrid was actually cooking, while Ezor took this opportunity to pinch her partner’s behind. 

Acxa sat on the sofa, in front of the kitchen, alone, sipping tea.

Allura picking at a tannish danish-like pastry, filled with indigo Moravian thorax flavored compote. 

Eleanor was slowly coming to the realization that there wasn’t anything remotely similar to the kind of provisions she was used to. 

And Lotor entered, a half hour late, starch white locks still half-soaked from the shower, slicked over to one side. “You look nice,” he said, giving Eleanor a once-over. He hadn’t greeted anyone. 

“Thank you, Allura assisted me earlier this morning,” she smiled satisfied with herself. 

They had stopped cooking quite some time ago, and had taken seats beside one another opposite Allura at the island. Silence for a solid six minutes before Ezor began crunching her hatchling omelette quite loudly. Zethrid slurped her coffee. Allure tapped her breakfast with her fork.

Lotor perused the fridge before selecting Moravian esterberries. Delectable-looking, plump, and blue, Eleanor reached for one out of the container and halfway popped it in her mouth before noticing the perplexed looks about her.

”What’s all this, then?”

”You do realize they must be cracked, and pitted first.” Lotor gestured towards the rind he’d peeled.

She shrugged in response, biting down, before realizing the fruit had squelched into an incredibly messy liquid, dribbling down the front of her dress. 

She looked almost overwhelmed, as if a meltdown were imminent. Instead of bursting into frantic fervor and whining, she attempted to wipe the dark blue juice, only spreading it further. 

Ezor held her her snickers while Zethrid glanced at Allura. “Allura, we have much to discuss.” 

Acxa almost glanced back. In the seventeen hours since they’d arrived onboard, neither Zethrid nor Ezor had acknowledged their former lover’s prescence. Such musings were interupted almost as swiftly as they’d began.

“Certainly, what time are you available?” 

“Now.”

”Now? Why, I haven’t finished my breakfast.”

” _Now_.” Ezor squeezed Zethrid’s bicep gently.

“If you will excuse me,” Allura smiled awkwardly, before dismissing herself to the soundproof gymnasium down the hall. Lot of was too busy trying to rid Eleanor’s outfit of stains to notice her abscence. 

Acxa drew in a deep, exasperated breath. Physically, she’d was a sight to behold. All the cranking and whatnot regarding sending Allura to that nonexistent parallel universe aka the quintessence field rebuilt the muscles she’d lost at the Garrison. Her hair had grown out, so she’d have to remember to cut it back into a bob, but it was about shoulder length. Unusually feminine, compared to the baby tank top, cargo pants, and combat boots she had on. But emotionally, that was a different story. 

In the many moons Allura and her had been stationed on the Blue Lion out in deep space, they’d come across many subjects. They’d briefly mentioned their former relationships—Allura more often than not related every possible conversation back to Lotor (Brumblebees? Lotor. Turnkey sandwiches? Lotor. Liquor? _Oh_ _most_ _definitely_ Lotor.)

The reason Acxa hadn’t brought up Zethrid and Ezor so often was because she refused to let anyone get close to her. She should’ve talked to Allura in between now and then about something meaningful. But Acxa wouldn’t be Axca without being emotionally unavaible. 

Though she’d reached her physical prime, the one telltale sign of emotional distress was the emptiness behind her eyes. 

Perhaps it was because her heart was aching. Or it was because she’d left her bong back on the Blue Lion, along with a brick and a half of weed. But what do _I_ know anyways? I’m only a narrator.

 

 


	11. plan of attack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> start looking forward & stop looking back

.“What in seven hells do you think you’re doing?” Zethrid plopped rather aggressively onto the bench. 

“I _was_ eating before I was interrupted and snatched away from my Moravian thorax cobbler.”

”Forget about the cobbler, Allura! _You_ were helping the enemy; _your_ enemy!” Ezor shouted, disgusted by ‘Llura’s lackadaisical attitude.

”Who, Eleanor? Just because we’re in competition doesn’t mean I have to sabotage her.”

”Doesn’t mean help her either. If it weren’t for you she’d be an ashy mess, reeking like a weblum’s ass and wearing those old-timey rags from yesterday.” 

“It’s not a competition if it’s not fair, Zethrid.”

”It’s already unfair— she’s got the advantage of not locking him in an alternate dimension for deca-phoebs. _And_ she looks like Pearl.” 

“First of all, you get Drag Race out here?— and second, if anything between us is resolved, it’ll be because we both want to get back together, not because I eliminated my competition.”

”Keep up like you are now, and you won’t even be in the race.”

”What do _you_ suggest I do, aside from not providing her suitable clothing and soaps and whatnot?”

”Out-ho her. She literally has no ass and no tiddies. And didn’t they like sleep in separate beds or whatever Earthians did back in like the 1800s?”

”Valid points...but no, they didn’t have beds back then. You’re thinking the 1950s.”

”Then what did they sleep on, smartass?”

”Rocks, duh. Just like all other primitive species,”

”True, true— but back to being on topic— Allura, we seriously don’t want him to end up with a _human_. Even if she does look like Pearl.”

”How am I supposed to out-ho her? There’s not a single sequin in my suitcase! I brought a singular pair of combat boots, and I didn’t even pack a thong!”

”We’ll stop on Barrullia Nine, and buy something far more decent than that matronly mess you’ve got on today and that boilersuit I saw you bring in.”

”Why must you all insist on repairing my relationship, when you’ve literally excluded Acxa at every possible opportunity,”

”Woah woah wooooooah...” Ezor began, gesturing all over the place.

”Woah. If she wants to be ‘included’ that badly, she knows _exactly_  where our quarters are.”

The sliding doors opened briskly, and large stomps followed. “Apologies for interrupting your little tee party, but General Zethrid, the Lord requires your presence.” the soldier with the violet shaved fauxhauk began, radiating ‘bad jubles’.

“It’s _Commander_ now, actually,” Ezor corrected.

”Once you’re given a new title, I have no problem referring to you as such. But until then, _General_ Zethrid, you can remove your head from your ass, and go about your business, and I’ll go about mine.”

All eyes blinked violently, signaling the emo one to cease and desist. Instead of casually snapping her scrawny neck and slinging the carcass over her shoulders, Zethrid silently rose, rather gracefully, and sashayed away, entering the corridor, the doors clicked closed behind her.

”She’s _so_ dead,” Ezor snickered, scanning around the corner. 

“What do you think she’ll do?” I peeked, following their movements by watching through the windows.

” _Mmmmm_....bodyslam that bitch into a recycling receptacle? Piledrive her into the laundry room?”

”Suplex her ass for insubordination?”

”Nah, she does that to mine just for fun.”

”Survey says....” I began, squinting for a hint of physical violence before they left our lines of sight.

”Nothing? _Nothing???_  Why, if that was me, I’d- _I’d_ shove my plutonium plated gogo boots so far up her flat ass she’d taste toenails instead of feeling her throat burning to a crisp.”

”Plutonium burns Induiexues? - Oh and I meant to ask you earlier, _where_ did you get those from?”

”Since she’s only half, it burns for a little bit before the internal combustion and whatnot. And Barrulia Nine’s got this _darling_ little outlet where BDZ got ‘em for our anniversary last deca-phoeb.”

” _BDZ_?”

Ezor smirked to herself, hopping over to straddle the pummel horse - the thingy with handles that looks like it belongs in a bdsm sex dungeon. 

“Big Daddi Zethrid? _THE_ mommie  with an ‘i’ by day/Vagitarian Overlord by night??? Have you never called anyone a pet name before?”

”No?”

”Not even Lotor?”

”Uhm, I called him ‘Lo’ occasionally? Mostly just Lotor, though,”

”No wonder your relationship failed miserably,” she grumbled.

” _Miserably_? That’s a stretch.”

”More like an understatement. First it flunked out, then went on a drunken rampage through an alternate dimension, before crashing and burning while plummeting into a weblum’s mouth.” 

“And here _I_ thought it was because both of us are emotionally unstable and have volatile personalities, likely resolvable through intense therapy, but what do _I_ know??”

”Absolutely nothing, which is why you’re in this predicament. So for your nickname for him, you need to follow this formula: adjective-relative-name, _THE_ relative-with an alternate spelling-by day/innuendo-by night!”

”creepy uncle lotor, the cunty aunty by day/heteroflexible jezebel by night”

”That last bit was _listworthyyyyy_ , but I’m 99.9% sure ‘creepy uncle’ is **_not_** remotely a part of his fantasy.”

“So, how ‘bout ‘cunty aunty by day/heteroflexible jezebel by night’”

”Okay, but say it in a sexy voice.”

“Sexy voice?”

”Like when I really need BDZ to do something, I’ll be like all coquettish and breathy or whatever and she’s _so_ into it that it works every time. Like an ‘ _Oh Lotor, you’re such a heteroflexible jezebel!’_ and like giggle sexily and make your boobs jiggle a lil’ bit.”

”oH _lOtOR_ yOuRe SuCh a HeTeRoFle-“

”I’m sorry, “Llura, but that was _disgusting_. Like that was some 80s cringe bdsm milf porno voice not an Im-trynna-get-laid-voice. I get you wanting to be all diplomatic abt that crashing  & burning bit, but this is **_NOT_** helping,”

”Since what you’ve suggested is clearly not the solution, maybe I should just build up trust before the boob jiggling?”

“Such blasphemy! Why, I’ve never heard such talk a day in my life,” Ezor pressed a hand to her breast, as if she hadn’t seen this coming. “Seriously, though, different stuff works for different people. I mean, I’ve been dating Zethrid for ten deca-phoebs, and boob jiggling is where it all began. But as fun as the shits & gigs are, I guess that’s why we’re not like married or whatever...” she trailed off before glancing at her smartwatch.

She leapt into the airm grabbing my hand and sprinting down the corridor. “ _Quiznak_ , “Llura, we’ve wholly fucked up!”

”How?” I ran behind her, dodging the various barriers and whatnot while flailing down the hall. 

“Acxa gets ready immediately after breakfast.” She skidded towards a halt just outside the kitchen to be out of Lotor’s line of sight. 

“ _So_?” 

“ _So_ we left Lotor and Eleanor _alone_.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> y did i ref that cringe ep of Steven universsseeeeeeeee????


End file.
